


Am I right to think that there could be nothing better

by magicites



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cousin Incest, F/M, Humanstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-27
Updated: 2012-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-06 03:19:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicites/pseuds/magicites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another world, you would be perfect together and no one would deny it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Am I right to think that there could be nothing better

**Author's Note:**

> I was in the mood to write Vriskat, so I asked for prompts, and the two I accepted were "Vriska and Karkat are cousins who like each other" and "blanket forts." So I wrote this in like, an hour. Oh well.
> 
> One day I am going to write lots of fics that don't involve Karkat at all. Hopefully.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you have never hated yourself more than you do in this moment of time.

Your cousin, a wild, intense, crazy liar of a girl, is currently grinning at you from inside the blanket fort you haphazardly threw together, consisting of a few blankets crappily hung from the top of your bunk bed and a million pillows Vriska somehow managed to get out of nowhere. You’re unable to tear your eyes away from her, from her pearly white teeth, a smile that would belong on a model if the overly long canines and chipped front tooth were gone. “C’mon, Karkat, what are you waiting for?” She asks, rolling over and letting her arms shoot out of the fort, trying in vain to grab you and drag you in. “Join me. It’ll be fun!” She punctuates that last statement with a wink, and suddenly your face feels like it’s on fire.

“Fuck you,” you growl out. “Only little babies and idiots like you crawl around in blanket forts.” You’re an idiot too, though. You just think that you wouldn’t be able to handle staying in such close proximity to her without doing something utterly idiotic. She pouts, and you feel your heart plummet down to your stomach in response.

You hate this feeling. There’s nothing more you want in the world than to crawl in that stupid fort, grab her face, and kiss her until you run out of breath. But you can’t, because even if she did like you that way, you could never date her. Everyone would look down on you, even your supposedly ‘open-minded’ parents. It’s wrong, because people who are related aren’t supposed to love each other that way. They’ll give birth to fucked up kids, even though those rumors are bullshit because it would take generations of inbreeding before the chances of having some rare disease actually increase to the point of being dangerous. Besides, neither of you even want to have kids, so why the fuck does it matter?

Why the fuck does is matter if you’re related? Who the fuck are you hurting? Why does it even _matter_ to anyone else what you choose to do?

But it’s wrong. It’s wrong and you know it. It’s wrong and everyone else knows it, no matter how stupid it is it’s wrong and you’ve gone in endless loops of confusion countless times.

(You hate yourself for being unable to figure it out.)

You don’t just hate yourself for liking her this way (maybe even falling in love, because you’ve felt this way long enough to be certain that the weightlessness you feel when you see her is love). You hate the world for making it so wrong.

“You know you want toooooooo,” she sings, her voice like poison hidden in honey. The dental nightmare you house in your own mouth slips out to worry at the bottom of your lip, and you try your best to glare at her. She giggles and gestures for you to come closer, and you shake your head no.

Sometimes, you hate her, too. You hate her for being so flawed, and yet so incredibly perfect that the thought of her reduces you to a pathetic heap of gooey feelings. She’s just as broken as you, but in different ways. She’s a lying, manipulative bitch who inserts herself into others problems and demands attention and adoration, while only making things worse for everyone else. You’re a self-loathing asshole who hides behind oversized clothing and loud curses in order to keep everyone out.

In another world, you would be perfect together and no one would deny it.

Vriska growls in annoyance and drags herself out of the fort. “This is what you make me do, Karkat!” She says. “You force me out just to drag you in.”

And then her arms are around your waist and you’re squawking in shock and trying to get out of her grasp, but she’s bigger and stronger than you. She drags you in with no problem and tosses you on the bed like you weigh nothing, and you bounce uselessly on the new mattress like a worn out rag doll. She flops down next to you, looking at you like she wanted nothing more in the world than to share this dumbshit blanket fort with you. Something in your chest twists, thin needles pricking your heart as the vice grip tightens. You let out a large breath, and she laughs, and you have no idea why but you end up grinning like an idiot at it.

“Isn’t it so much easier when you just agree with me?” She says to you, and you try your best not to watch the way her cerulean-painted lips shape the words.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“You can’t like to me, Karkat. I know you wanted to be in here with me,” she leans closer to you, batting her eyelashes, and you know that she’s doing this just to get under your skin but you hear that as ‘I know you want me’ and then all you can feel is panic.

“I only came in here because you fucking grabbed me and threw me in, shitbag!” You protest.

She laughs, and you know that she only wanted to make you mad all along. She does that a lot, saying or doing something just to make you react. It’s infuriating, but deep down, you don’t mind it at all. You actually kind of like it.

“You’re an idiot,” she says, so fond and sincere you think you’re going to melt on the spot. Her face is just inches from yours, looking so happy and at peace with the world for once in her miserable life. You wish you could work up the courage and drown out the voices in your head screaming protests and citing the unwritten rules you’re forced to obey, and just kiss her.

She does it for you.

Your eyes fly wide open, and your arms lift up in shock, but she’s not really doing anything, just pressing her lips against yours. She’s not forcing it at all. She tenses up and starts to pull back, but you dive after her, excitement and panic and utter disbelief at what is currently happening driving you on. This might be a dream, because you sure as fuck have dreamed about shit like this before (not that you would ever tell anyone), but you want it to last.

Before you can stop yourself, you kiss her, nothing more than a short, angry peck on her lips. “Why the fuck did you do that?” You ask her, trying to sound angry and failing, the words instead coming out in a hollow breath.

She glares back at you, cheeks puffing out in an angry and indignant manner. You brace yourself for the coming denial, for some utterly idiotic reason like it was an accident.

“Well, why did you just kiss me back, huh!?”

By the time you realize she only did that to reflect the question back at you, you’re already speaking. “Maybe because I like you, shit for brains! Have you ever thought of that? It’s fucking wrong and I’m a sick fuck for feeling this way, but reality is clearly not something that my completely broken brain and heart have accounted for!”

She blinks, once, twice, three times.

You’re panting heavily, waiting for her to say something.

She blinks again.

“…Really?” She asks, and you want to strangle her at how stupid she sounds.

“No shit, really!”

“Oh.” The word tumbles out of her mouth and lays there between the two of you, keeping you from saying anything else. You don’t know what you could possibly say now.

Another silence stretches on and on.

“Well. Maybe I like you too, shithead.” Vriska mutters. “Maybe I’ve liked you for a long time, and maybe I don’t give a fuck what anyone else says. Maybe I think you’re kind of cute, and maybe I’ve wanted to do that and a lot more for a long time.” She pauses, uncertain. “Maybe.”

The strange thing is, you don’t really feel all that happy. She just confessed to you and you don’t feel happy at all, when you know you should be elated. You don’t really feel anything. It’s not that you’re numb, just…in shock, probably. This doesn’t feel real. None of it does.

So you do the only thing you can think of, which is to kiss her again. This time, it’s much slower and longer, and you feel jolts of electricity pass through your body when she swipes her tongue along your bottom lip. You open your mouth, and it’s kind of terrible when your teeth clack together, but she tastes like the chocolate bar she gave you half of earlier, and you’ve never done this before so you have no way to judge, but it’s possibly the best thing you’ve ever felt. 

She rolls you over onto your back, never breaking the kiss. She’s had experience with this kind of thing, so you just kind of lay back and let her take the lead. She breaks away from your mouth to pull down your turtleneck to pepper kisses and nips at your neck. A loud moan escapes your mouth without your permission, and she takes this as a sign to slip her hands under your shirt.

The moment you feel warm fingers brush against your sides, it’s like your brain decided to turn back on. You basically flip the fuck out, grabbing her hands and pulling them away, saying, “stop,” over and over like some demented chant.

She pulls back, trying to hide her hurt. “Well, excuuuuuuuuse me, god! I was just trying to…”

“Trying to what?” You snap back. “Get us both disowned when my parents walk in to find their kid and niece fucking on his new bed?”

“Make you feel good!” She practically screams, and you slap your hand over her mouth, turning her shouts into muffled gibberish.

Guilt wracks your body, and you utterly deflate, letting your hand fall to your side. “I’m sorry. I’m just. God,” you breathe out. “I’m so fucking scared. This is wrong and going to fast and I want it to be fucking _romantic_ , Vriska, and maybe you want it because it’s wrong and hot and it’ll make your mom mad but I fucking don’t. I want this because,” your throat closes up but you force yourself to continue, “because I love you, okay? I love you a lot.”

She gawks at you, and you remember that despite her tough bravado, not a lot of people actually can actually stand Vriska Serket, let alone love her. Especially not people who have seen as much as her as you have, people who have gotten through her eighty-eight barrier of lies and false self-esteem.

“Yeah. I.” She swallows. “I love you too, Karkat. And I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if we. You know. Went on a date or two.”

You nod. There’s nothing else to really say, to be honest, so instead you smile. It’s finally starting to sink in, that she might just be telling the truth and that this is actually reality.

You still don’t think that she really reciprocates your feelings.

You still hate a lot of things, including yourself for falling in love with her when you shouldn’t have.

But you think you can hate yourself a little less if she really does loves you back.


End file.
